


Inheritance

by DaughterOfKings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mother-Son Relationship, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Poe-centric, Post-Movie(s), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfKings/pseuds/DaughterOfKings
Summary: Leia can tell Poe is close to breaking, and battling to hold it off...Post-TLJ.





	Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Thank you, [SkylandMountain1013](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylandMountain1013/pseuds/SkylandMountain1013), for letting me write in your living room. :-)

Poe finds ways to stay busy in the aftermath of the battle.

There’s no shortage of work for him to do on the _Falcon_ , and Leia knows he can’t bear to be idle any more than she can. Not for the first time, she wishes he hadn’t grown to be so much like her. He's not her son, and he has never needed her to be a mother; his own mother had loved him so fiercely that Leia can still sense it when she’s near him.

She knows it would have broken Shara’s heart to watch him go off to war. And she knows she is responsible.

She had loved her son fiercely, too, but she hadn’t been able to leave a trace.

There’s more of her in Poe now than there ever was in Ben. There’s more of Han, too, but she can’t think about that- about _him_ \- while she’s trying to keep the Resistance alive. She’s huddled with her few surviving officers, trying to hash out logistics, and watching Poe out of the corner of one eye. He’s been reading the same arms inventories for the past ten minutes, going over the information as if it will somehow change how little they have left.

Leia can tell he’s close to breaking, and battling to hold it off. He grieves the same way she does: horribly and suddenly, and not until he’s out of sight.

He bolts when Finn tries to put a hand on his shoulder, and his datapad clatters to the floor. Almost no one reacts to the noise- they’re too stunned, too tired- but Leia sees Rey’s head jerk up, sees her eyes go from Finn, to the place where Poe had been standing, to the corridor he’s vanished into. She starts to move towards it- she has a need to heal things, even if she doesn't fully understand it- but Leia shakes her head.

"I-" Rey begins, then stops.

“Let it be me,” Leia tells her. She does her best not to wince, or lean too heavily on her cane as she stands.

Finn offers her Poe’s datapad, but she shakes her head. “You hang onto it,” she says. “Give it back to him when he comes to apologize.”

“Oh. He- he doesn’t need to do that,” Finn stammers.

"I know." Leia smiles. “But he will.”

She waits until Finn manages to smile back, then heads down the corridor. She’s not surprised that Poe hasn’t made it very far. His legs must have gone out from under him, and he's only managed to get back up to his knees. His hands scrabble against the metal walls as he tries to breathe through the sobs convulsing his body.

Leia immediately gets down beside him and pulls him into her arms, ignoring the way her fatigued muscles protest as he presses his face against her shoulder. She brings one hand up to his sweaty hair and places the other flat in the center of his back, and she feels his arms come up around her, squeezing almost painfully tight. She can’t help thinking of Ben, of all the monsters she couldn’t chase away for him.

She can’t chase them away for Poe either, but at least now she knows what they are.

She hears Poe’s breath hitch, and around his sobs, he starts repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He’s not really speaking to her- or, at least, not only to her- but she whispers assurances to him anyway because she’s the one who is still here. She’s the one who can.

“My- they were- my orders,” Poe gasps, and, oh, she knows this monster particularly well. Command is a heady thing, but it’s weighty, too, and he has worn it so lightly at times.

There will be no more of that now.

He’s not her son, but he is her heir, the child of her rebellion. It will be his to carry on someday. But, for now, she holds him, and silently vows to keep holding him for as long as she can.


End file.
